


Untitled AU

by Apocraphex



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Abandoned Work - Unfinished and Discontinued, Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2005-09-29
Updated: 2007-01-18
Packaged: 2019-08-27 09:35:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16699954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apocraphex/pseuds/Apocraphex
Summary: A young mutant robber is captured and brought to the city of Westchester for justice, but Prince Warren wants the thief as his pet... Inspired by Ai no Kusabi.Originally posted on LiveJournal in 2005-09-29Posted here for archiving purposes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Beta: Esprit.

The rising sun coloured the heavens in bright colours of crimson and lavender as the birds sang their morning hymns. An eagle soared through the sky, keeping a keen eye on the ground for prey. It noticed a small mouse creeping out of its den to find something edible, and attacked swiftly, giving the mouse no chance to react to the threat. The eagle settled down on a tree branch to feast, when it heard a peculiar sound from afar, getting closer each passing second. It recognised the sound as large mammals on the move with something following behind them on the unnatural path in the forest. Sensing no danger, it returned to feed on the mouse.

The four large black horses moved in a graceful trot as their driver, a short blond man named Thomas Guthrie, sat ontop of the carriage. Guthrie crumpled to be as small as he could possibly be to keep his warmth while driving the powerful beasts, his eyes scanned the area without a pause, seemingly afraid to close them even for a moment.

He had all rights to be nervous. There had been reports of robberies in the forest. And not just any local band of robbers, but the mutant kind. People that had been born with special powers. Powers that could be terrifying and dangerous that they had become unwanted in any modern society, and the creatures had been executed or shunned and avoided like last week's rotten fish. A man that killed a mutant would be considered a hero.

Thomas Guthrie didn't like mutants. He had never met one in his life, and he had planned to keep it that way. But the morning sun didn't light up the way as it would have during mid-day, and he couldn't help but imagining seeing movements in the shadows. He shook his head, reminded himself that they were escorted by a few men of the Corintian army. Not even mutants would attack members of an army that were worldly famous for their bravery and talents.

He would have preferred to let his stallions gallop, as it would be harder for even mutants to keep up with their speed, but as the road were uneven in places, with large holes and big rocks lying around, he found it best to keep to a trot to keep the beasts from injury. The horses snorted from time to time but kept their graceful movements. Years and years of controlled breeding had without a doubt paid off in the birth of these fine specimen. They had small, fine heads attached to a strong yet slender necks, their black manes and tails were long and soft as silk to the touch, with slight curls in them. Their backs were strong, and their legs were long and lean. The hoof feathers were astounding, they covered the hooves completely as would the hoof feathers of the heavy draft horses of the farmers and knights, but the rest of the horses looked slender yet muscular like those heritaged of the eastern countries. The perfect mixture between power and elegance. Expensive horses, owned only by royals and the wealthiest of nobles. The four steeds he currently had control over belonged to the man he had been driving for the past hour, Lord Sebastian Shaw.

The Lord was on his way to visit the capital city of Westchester, where he would give king Charles Francis Xavier XII two of his finest white stallions as a tribute for the king's recent victory over the small country of Drial, where the king had established mines to dig for gold, emeralds and other precious things. The horses in question were in the hands of the men of the army that followed right behind them.

Guthrie couldn't help but feel a bit jealous. King Charles were one of the most powerful Kings that had ever existed in all of the known world, and had an almost ridiculous wealth to flaunder with. Lord Shaw was a specialist on horse breeding and had the finest and most sought after horses in the country. Imagine what just a little tiny bit of their gold could do to improve his own family's situation. He had eight children with his beloved wife Lucinda, whom had recently fallen ill with a fever, and he could barely support them with the food and care they needed. His oldest son Samuel worked in their local basalt quarry, but were still too young to be forced to work full hours. Ofcourse, none of this mattered at all to great men like Lord Shaw, whom paid Guthrie minimum wage to drive him around whenever he wanted out from his large estates. The one and only time the poor driver had asked for a raise, he had been told that he could easily be replaced with somebody else for less pennies.

He were forced out of his self-pitying thoughts as an explosion were heard and the ground shook from the force. The horses reared up and neighed. Six guards of the Corintian army spurred their horses on in full galopp to protect the Lord from the robbers, whom made their way from the forest onto the path with knives and swords in their hands.

They were just the decoy, though. Once the riders had come close enough, mutants hiding in the surrounding trees used their powers at them. One mutant used fire, another used telekinesis and a third used electricity shock waves. They all made sure that the horses didn't get hurt, as they were part of their loot. The decoy robbers turned out to be able to use their powers to the fullest in close combat. They made their way to the carriage, and one of them jumped up to the driver's seat and put a knife against Guthrie's throat.

"Please don't kill me!" the poor man screeched as the mutant searched through the pockets of his cloak for any valuables with his free hand. "I don't have anything... Please... I have a wife and children, ple--"  
Guthrie fell down from the carriage as the blood spurted out from his slit throat. The mutant took the reins and made to urge the horses to get going, when a man brutally decapitated him.  
The escorters were well-trained, more so than the mutants had first expected, and while some men lost their lives and it seemed that the mutants would win, things quickly turned around. The remaining ten riders had taken down the long-distance mutants with rifles and gunpowder and were now aiding their comrades in close combat.

Lord Shaw watched everything behind the curtains of the windows, his face grim and proper like always. He had expected a mutant raid, though he didn't think they would take so many lives. But as long as he and all of his horses made it safely to Westchester, he didn't care. He didn't like to be held up like this.  
When he saw that his guards had taken control over the few mutants that remained, he opened the carriage door and looked out with authority over the men and freaks. Corpses littered the ground and blood were splattered all over, even on his expensive carriage.

"Cease the fighting", he demanded in his cold voice.

The strong army took tight grips on the defeated mutants, prepared to kill them instantly if they so much as moved their eyes. As there were less mutants than men, a few guards stood by the Lord, ready to protect him if the mutants tried anything.

"Collar them. I want them brought to justice to recieve their proper punishment."

He barely held back a grin at the thought of the most severe punishment of all, the one the mutants were destined to face no matter what their crime - the Iron Bull. * Four of the mutants had been collared - and thus neutrilized of their powers - but as the guards moved to the fifth mutant, a blue one that looked like a demon, he disappeared with a bamf out of their hands, only to resurface on the back of one of the guards' horses. He quickly snatched the reins of another horse and set off in full speed into the forest. The military men screamed in fury and tried to shoot him but missed, hitting the trees instead. The mutant had escaped. Lord Shaw turned their attention to their captives.

"Tie them to my carriage and tell Guthrie to get going."

"Errm, my Lord? The driver has been murdered, sir."

"I am quite certain that one of you can take his place. Now hurry up, I don't want to be late. We still have a long road ahead of us."

He closed the door and settled down in his comfortable seat covered in fine exotic linen next to a pale beautiful woman. He caressed her cheek to show his fondness of her, but his face remained the same as always, devoid of any emotion.

Four guards tied ropes around the mutants wrists and tied them to the back of the carriage, while the other guards lifted their fallen comrades and the driver onto the remaining army horses. They didn't dare to put any bodies on the horses that were to be given to the king. The proud stallions stood where they had been secured when the fight had begun, seemingly not the slightest worried. The perfect psyche of a horse that would carry its rider into the battlefield without slightest fear. Lord Shaw had indeed done a great work.

A guard jumped up to the driver's seat and made the horses move forward. Some mutant corpses got their legs or arms run over by the heavy carriage as they set off in trot, forcing the captured mutants to run in order to not get dragged behind, hoping that the horses wouldn't go faster.

 

TBC...  
______________________________

* The Iron Bull is a torture appliance, I find it incredibly fascinating. It will be mentioned later on, then i'll write more details about it.

 

Pets: Humans of lower class. Of different reasons they are bought from their families at a very early age, and get trained to be proper pets for upper class. Only the most beautiful ones goes to the Royal family. The work a pet has to do varies as it is up to the Master; but their main principle is to pleasure their Masters, whenever, wherever, however the Master please. They may only dress in what their Masters desire; they are usually naked but if they wear clothings, it has to be black and red, which are the colours symbolising human pets and pleasure. One the Royal family and the wealthiest of Nobles can add gold and precious stones to their pet's clothing as well.  
All pets are regurlaly shaved of their pubic- and body hair by local Healers. Male pets are usually castrated, with only a few exceptions. Women are not allowed to have intimate contact with a male pet that hasn't been gelded, and a female pet that gets pregnant brings shame to her Master.  
Masters have to take care of their pets, as they would for animals under their care, provide them with food etc. Pets in the Royal and Noble households live in extreme luxery. Pets have learned at a very young age to not have a will of their own; their Master's word is law. Rebelling pets are punished severely.

MUTANT HISTORY: Mutants started to show up 150 years ago. The supernatural abilities started to show when the children were around the age of 7, and as soon as others noticed the child's special ability, the family was given two choices; to sell the child to the King's Army for a small amount of gold, or have the child taken away by force. The Great Kings saw the mutants as powerful weapons to be used against their enemies. But as the mutants got trained to properly use their powers, some of them started to rebel. Afraid that the mutants would bring down the Kingdoms, they were executed or banished to No Man's Land, with the promise of a painful death of their families upon returning. Mutants born after the banishment were taken into custidy; if they had powers that could be of good use for mankind they were raised to become good servants of the City , but if their powers could be a threat to the nation they were killed instantly. Recently, the banished mutants have started to attack travelling humans, stealing their horses and belongings, which made the Kings of the ten largest countries unite to create a solution. The strongest wizards from each of the countries were ordered to come together and create something that could neutrilize the mutant power. The wizards invented a thin yet unbreakable collar, that was easy to snap around the mutant's neck, and is impossible to come off unless opened by a special key. Each Great King have one key in their posession.


	2. Chapter 2

It took slightly more than two hours in trot and canter without a break for rest before they arrived at the grande city of Westchester. Lord Shaw's horses had showed remarkable stamina, they were barely panting, but the army horses were white with sweat as most of them carried the dead-weight of the fallen soldiers.

The small party made their way through the cobblestoned main streets. Peasants that were walking by hurried to the sides to make room for them; they knew that some Lords didn't care if people were stomped down by their horses. To the mutants relief it didn't take long before the carriage came to an abrupt halt.

A young mutant fell to his knees as his shaky legs finally gave up on him. He panted heavily as the sweat poured down his face.

"Remy, you okay?" the mutant next to him whispered.

He turned his head to look at her and managed a grin, "Just need t' catch my breath, chere, but I'll be alright. You?"

The one-eyed female mutant known as Callisto nodded her head once. On the other side of her Synch, whom had a deep wound on the side of his face that was still bleeding slightly, and next to him... Remy had to close his eyes and turn his head away. The fourth captured mutant, Tattoo, hadn't been able to keep up with the intense running and from the looks of it, her dead body had been dragged along for the past hour.

Men came to untie them from the carriage, and took them towards the backdoor of a great building made of marble. People had gathered to see the horrible creatures, the spawn of the Devil himself, their eyes were filled with fear and hate as they started to shout things at them.

Remy LeBeau was unable to look away from their faces even though he could almost feel their disgust in his very bones. As they got near the backdoor of the marble building, his eyes locked with a pair of blue ones. Blue like the clearest of water. The eyes belonged to a handsome blond man whom stood a good distance away from the other humans, surrounded by guards. He stared back at the mutant's red on black eyes with his mouth slightly open.

Remy's head suddenly snapped to the side and an intense burn started to spread across his cheek.

"Don't you dare to look a Royal Prince in the eyes, piece of filth!" a guard sneered at him. The man was about to strike the young mutant again, when his arm was caught and twisted in the assailant's grip. The guard gritted his teeth as he realized their mistake; not having retied the mutants hands behind their backs instead of leaving them tied in front, which gave Remy a weak chance of fighting back against his captors. Remy's eyes flared dangerously as his grip tightened.

"I can look at whomever I want, flatscan", he said through clenched teeth as he twisted the arm out of its sockets. The man screamed in agony and Remy was punched in the face by another guard before roughly being forced to go on with the others.

Remy could feel the pair of blue eyes still on him, and he turned his head to look back. The man was looking rather amused at him.

Once inside, the three mutants were led down to an underground cellar, where there were rows of dark and moist cells. The only light source came from a few torches on the far-off wall. The mutants were shoved inside a small cell and left alone. Remy sat down on the dirty floor and leaned back against the cold stone wall with a heavy sigh.

 

***

The Great King had been occupied the entire day with socialising with all of the invited noblemen, as the good host he was, which left the blond prince irritated over the fact that he could not speak with his father in private during the past hours since he got back from his short trip into the central city. It wasn't until the king made his way towards the dining hall that he seized his chance.

He approached his father in the luxurious hallway that lead from the throne room to the just as large dining hall. He knew that his father would get irritated by being disrupted before dinner, but time was running out with each breath.

"Father, may I speak with you?"

King Charles looked at him for a moment before turning to his companions.

"Lord Shaw, Lord Drake, please go ahead."

The two lords bowed their heads in respect as the king turned to walk into an empty room nearby, followed by his youngest son.

"What is so important that it cannot wait until after dinner, Warren?" he asked as the prince closed the door behind them.

"I want a pet."

The king raised his eyebrows.

"You have been able to recieve a pet for the last eight years, yet you have always declined."

"No one has caught my eye until just now."

"Notify Doctor McCoy and the pet will be yours. Now if you excuse --"

"He's a mutant", Warren interrupted as his father made to leave. King Charles' eyes widened. "He's one of the mutants that Lord Shaw took as prisoners. I want him", the prince continued.

"A mutant pet?! And a robber and murderer at that! It's preposterous!" Charles sneered as he angrily turned his back on his son to walk over to the edge of the balcony overlooking the beautiful city below. He took a few minutes to let himself cool down before he faced Warren, and said with a calmer yet authoritive voice; "Do you have any idea what people will think if we bring mutants into our homes? Into our beds?"

Warren kept quiet, he knew better than to interfere with his father when he was angry. The king would come around eventually, like he always did when his sons wanted something.

"And a wild mutant at that..." Charles almost laughed. "A filthy dog that tried to rob a great Lord, and whom killed several men in that attempt, in fact. And it probably carries more fleas than there are in the entire poor men's quarters."

"Have you seen him?"

"I don't need to see it, wild mutants are all the same. Untamed, fierce freaks with horns and other oddities growing out of their skulls, completely inferior in mind and ability to the mutants kept in our service, not to mention absolutely inferior to us."

"I'll admit that he is not as submissive to us as our mutant slaves are", Warren said, "but that is to be expected as he has never been in civilisation until now. As for his looks�he is a sight to behold. One would think that his beauty were his mutant power." Charles snorted at this. "Believe me father, would I want him if he were an ugly beast? Atleast let me give it a try, let me try to tame him and claim him as mine."

"Mutants are not to be trusted", Charles said, looking straight into Warren's blue eyes to make him remember what had happened a few years back. "Our mutant slaves have grown up with our laws and discipline, this wild mutant has no idea of how civilised people act." He turned his face to look outside again. The sun was still pretty high in the sky, shining its warm life-giving light over the glorious land beneath it. "How will you properly care for a pet when you cannot even care properly for your own horse?"

Warren wrinkled his royal nose. "Brigador smells. You know that I'm not fond of being in the stables, father. I enjoy riding him, but why in heaven's name should I muck his stall or scrub him clean when I have servants and stable boys to do it for me?"

"And will your servants care for your mutant as well?"

"I won't let anyone else touch him."

Charles watched the setting sun for a moment as he thought things over, then bent his head in defeat. "I will let you have him." Warren held back a smile of victory. He knew the outcome even before he had approached his father; once the king had let him know that he was the one in charge, the one whose words were law, it didn't take long before he gave into his sons wishes. "But I'll only give you one week. If you cannot tame him until the next Friday�" Charles turned to stare strictly at the blond prince, "�I'll send him to the Bull he is to be spared from this night."

Warren's eyes widened for a moment, then he bowed his head, "Thank you, father."

He backed away, head still bent in submission, until he reached the door. He was about to leave when his father continued.

"Oh, and I want you and your new...pet...to attend the punishment of his friends tonight. That will help teach him what he has to face if he disobeys you."

"Yes, father."

With that, Warren left for the stables. He ordered the first stable boy he saw to prepare his horse, and once his chestnut stallion was led outside, he jumped up in the saddle. Accompanied by four of the Royal Guards, he made his way for the courthouse.

***

 

The prince entered the courthouse through its large front doors that were decorated in ancient patterns of kings and mighty warriors of the past defeating their wicked enemies and offering them to the Gods of Justice. He walked with long, authoritive steps to the back where the stairs down to the dungeon were located. A guard saluted him.

"Prince Warren!" the man said. "What may I do for you, my Lord?"

"There's a mutant down in the holding cells. I want him brought up here."

The guard looked confused, "But my lord, we have three mutants down there. Shall I bring up all three, sir?"

Warren looked irritated.

"No, just the boy with the red and black eyes."

"Yes, sir!"

The guard called for some of his comrades before hurrying down the steps. It didn't take long before they returned, all of the five guards held their own chains to make sure that the freak didn't try to do anything against the prince, even though his arms were tightly secured wrist to elbow behind his back, having learned their lesson from before when the freak still had his hands tied in front of him. He was gagged with a piece of cloth to keep him from insulting or spit on the Royal.

Warren smirked as recognition flashed in those exotic eyes of the mutant. Two of his royal guards stepped forward to take the chains from the other men who backed away from the prince and continued to do their own business. Without taking his eyes off his pet's, he adressed the guards that held him.

"Take him to Doctor McCoy, tell him to clean the boy up. I'll make sure a carriage will come for him when he's done." He raised his hand to let his fingers caress the soft skin of Remy's cheek. Remy's eyes flared with anger, but this only seemed to amuse the blond man even more. Warren was about to turn and leave, when he added, "Oh, and tell the good doctor not to castrate him; I want a fiery stallion, not a gelding."

He could hear behind him how the mutant swore the foulest words the prince had ever heard through the gag, and how he fought his hardest to get loose but to no prevail. The boy was weaker than the men that held him. Warren sat up on Brigador's back and made his way home.


	3. Chapter 3

The guards made the chained mutant walk between them as they rode on their dark brown horses. It took about half an hour before they reached a small estate by the bay, in close proximity to the majestic castle. They were met by Doctor McCoy himself by the gates, he was a large-built man with small oval glasses through which he observed the mutant brought towards him. He'd heard from a messenger how the prince had found the mutant's beauty breath-taking enough for him to be taken as a pet. And the prince was not wrong; the boy was indeed handsome despite his current dirty state. He was tall and lean, but he was incredibly thin due to lack of food. He had auburn hair that reached down to below his shoulders; his skin was white like porcelain under all the dirt. A small hint of a bruise after the received punch earlier was visible on one cheek. As the gag had been removed, the doctor could see soft thin lips beneath a fine nose, high cheekbones and the strangest eyes Hank McCoy had ever seen. The sclera was black as kohl, while the iris was crimson red. He had to grin at the sight; black and red were the colours symbolising a pet.

"I'm Doctor McCoy", he introduced himself to the prince's new pet, then looked up at the guards still sitting on their horses. "Follow me, please."

The guards jumped down from their beasts, leaving them to attendants, and forced the boy to come with them to a small building attached to McCoy's home. Remy didn't care to take in his surroundings as he walked inside, he kept his eyes locked on the large man whom currently overlooked a small tub that were being filled with warm water by a couple of female servants.

"Take his clothes off", McCoy ordered while dipping a finger into the water to feel its temperature.

"What the…?!" Remy fought the guards holding him as good as he possibly could when the servants moved forwards to untie his arms and take off his dirty and torn clothing.

"Oh there's no need to fight, my dear boy", McCoy ensured with a smile, his gentle tone calming the other down. "You'll have to take a bath, if you don't mind me saying so you smell quite foul." Remy tensed but ceased his struggling. The servants, who were used to help the doctor with newly acquired pets that needed to be checked before moving in with their Masters, stripped him with ease and threw his clothes into an old basket nearby. Remy couldn't help but blush slightly as he stood completely naked in front of the others.

McCoy looked at the guards. "I am sure he doesn't need to be held like a dangerous dog, gentlemen. You can remove those chains. But I would like it if you remain here, just in case."

The guards looked at each other, then reluctantly took off the iron collar around his neck to which the chains were secured to. They were careful not to touch the power neutralizer, though.

Remy walked with uncertain steps towards the tub where McCoy were standing. The man offered a hand to help him get in, but he refused it and got in by himself. He had to admit that he had been longing for this; the feeling of warm water surrounding his whole body. It eased his sore muscles, made him relaxed, but he refused to drop his garde. He kept his eyes on the doctor as he instructed the servants to clean him. The young women were nervous about touching the mutant, but they trusted their employer. If he didn't feel threatened by a mutant, then neither should they. One woman cleaned his body with a soap bar while another tended to his hair with a conditioner that smelled of apples and flowers. When they were done, they poured clean water over him to get rid of remaining conditioner before McCoy instructed Remy to get out and dry off. A servant handed him a soft towel and he wrapped it around himself.

"Come and sit here", McCoy said in his most gentle medical voice as he patted on a examine table.

The guards watched closely as Remy hesitated, but the mutant did what the kind man requested. McCoy put his large hands on Remy which made him startle, but as the man's touch was completely professional he calmed down. Deep down, for some unknown reason, he knew he could trust this man. The doctor placed his hands on the boy's shoulders for a moment, giving Remy a tickling sensation that buzzed through him, then moved up to the face, mouth and skull for a few minutes, then down to the chest. The skin told the Healer-turned-Doctor a good deal about the condition of the boy. It was rough and warm in places where he'd had lasting injuries, soft and smooth where he was healthy. His heart beat a little too fast for the doctor's liking, but it was mostly because of nervousity. His lungs seemed to function fine. McCoy moved his hands down each of Remy's arms and hands, feeling for anything irregular but finding none. He then moved his hands to the young man's abdomen, concentrating to his fullest to read the state of his internal organs. He closed his eyes and focused deeply as he let his hands roam about the midsection. Liver, kidneys, intestines… They all felt fine. He continued down to his legs and feet. They felt rough to the touch, but that was natural due to the extreme running he had been forced to do, from what he had heard. The bones felt fine, and with a little rest the legs would regain their soft feel. He placed a hand on Remy's chest again to feel his heart one more time. It had slowed down a bit and was more to McCoy's liking.

Without warning he placed his other hand on Remy's crotch. The boy jumped and tried to escape the touch, but the guards were ready and held him.

"Now, now, I'm just controlling your health", McCoy said as he used both of his hands to feel around on the skin of Remy's most private parts between the boy's spread legs, as well as inserting a finger into him..

Remy didn't say anything; he had a faint blush on his cheeks as he sat on the examination table, being held by both arms by the guards and with the doctor touching him. Thankfully, the servants had turned their heads away.

"As far as I can tell, which means with all certainty, the boy has no diseases", McCoy told one of the older servants whom wrote it down on a piece of parchment that would be given to the prince along with the examined pet. "He is famished and needs a lot of food and rest, but other than that he is in top condition. He has good strong teeth with no missing teeth or cavities. He is not a virgin when it comes to sex with males, but has no injuries from the couplings. Now, did the young prince say anything about castration?"

One of the guards snorted with amusement, "Aye, he wanted us t' tell you that 'e wanted a 'fierce stallion, not a gelding', as it were."

McCoy chuckled heartily as he prepared a tiny shaving knife. He could see the fear in the dark orbs in that beautiful face and he smiled reassuringly.

"I'm not going to castrate you, dear boy, as it would be against the wishes of His Highness. I'm just going to give you a little trim." The guards forced Remy to lay down on his back, and McCoy spread his legs a little wider as he poured some shaving scum over the pubic hair. "Now please lay still, the blade is pretty sharp."

Remy gulped and closed his eyes as he felt the blade stroking against his skin. He held his breath as the shaving knife moved around his testicles, removing all of the visible hair. McCoy then checked the mutant's arm pits for more body hair, as well as the face. He concluded that the boy was no older than seventeen as he didn't have enough body hair to bother shaving off. Once done, McCoy dabbed the shaved area of the crotch with a moist cloth, catching all of the shaved off hair with it before throwing it in the same basket as Remy's clothes. He then put on some special ointment to keep the skin from getting irritated before he replaced the towel to cover the young man as the guards let go of him. Remy sat up and watched as one of the servants came towards him to brush the silky hair, which now seemed more red than auburn. She also trimmed it a bit so that it wouldn't look so ragged. Another servant came forward with new clothes in her arms. She placed them by Remy's side before leaving with the other women when their services weren't needed further more.

Remy glanced at the clothes. A black fishnet shirt that would sit tightly on his thin chest, a pair of black sandals and red harem-style pants that were of such a thin material that they would be seen through. He clenched his teeth at the thought but still put them on. The guards put the finishing touches to the outfit by securing the collar with attached chains around his throat and tied his hands behind his back.

McCoy signed the parchment that would be given to Prince Warren and handed it to one of the guards, then put a hand on Remy's shoulder and gave the boy a friendly smile, something he’d never done with any of the other pets he had examined. But then again, none of the other pets had been like this boy, this wild beautiful mutant, none of the others had needed words of encouragement since they all knew what were to happen.

"You don't have to look so distraught, young man. Your new life won't be bad at all. I've known Prince Warren all of his life, he is a good man and I am sure he will care greatly for you."

Remy didn't look at the man's face. He had, somewhere in the foolish childish part of his mind, hoped that this man that made him feel safe and secure would help him escape this forthcoming hell. But Lady Luck hadn't been on Remy's side lately. He closed his eyes for a moment to get rid of the self-pitying thoughts; they wouldn't do him any good in his current situation. He felt the Doctor give his shoulder a final squeeze before he got pushed forward by the guards who led him out to the gates where a small dark carriage waited. One of the guards got in with the mutant as the other mounted his horse, holding the other one by the reins.

 

 

***

 

Remy spent the short journey through the wealthier part of the city by looking out through the windows that were made of dark glass to prevent insight. Men and women sat on benches in the slowly disappearing sunshine outside of their homes, watching children play by kicking around a small ball made of a goat's stomach.

The lovely odour of spicy food suddenly snaked into the carriage as they passed by a home where the family were about to settle down for dinner. Remy's stomach growled wantonly at the delicious odour, and Remy bit his lower lip while forcing his stomach to keep quiet. He hadn't eaten since the day before, when he and the rest of the mutants behind the attack on the Lord shared a roasted deer that they had caught. That had seemed ages ago. It still felt surreal to him to see so many of them die, it was more like a bad dream than reality. He had been a part of attacks like that before, but the outcome had never been so disastrous.

He stopped the current track of his thoughts and concentrated on what he saw through the dark windows. He'd need to know the area in case he managed to escape whatever it was that awaited him. They were upon a tall bridge, that to Remy's dismay opened and closed manually so that no trespassers could gain easy access to the other side. That would be hard to get by, but it could still work. He leaned closer to the window to look over the edge. The water was wild here, the waves smashed into whatever they could. He hadn't noticed until now that the harbour was properly located further away where the water was calmer. Quite a good spot to place a castle, as smaller boats impossibly could get unwanted guests across the water. He raised his eyes to take in the approaching castle.

It was made of white marble and seemed to be twenty stories high, with large towers reaching into the sky. Each tower held the country's flag on tall poles. The entire island that the castle was built upon was surrounded by a sturdy wall of white-painted stone, with only one entrance; a strong wooden gate in-between two statues of the Devine Guardian Bulls that protected the King and the City. The carriage came to a halt as guards came to check inside if the passengers were correct with what the driver stated. It didn't take long before they let the great gate open and the carriage was delivered through.

Inside the walls, the castle looked more astounding, even to the point that Remy had to admit he was blown away by the beauty of it. Green gardens filled with beautiful flowers were placed on either side of a white road that led to the huge front doors. Opposite of the castle, along the walls by the gate, were baracks and stables for the guards and their horses. This didn't interrupt the beauty of the semi-large island on which the castle was located, though, it simply added a sense of security…if one wanted to be here, that is. Remy saw it more of another problem, it would be difficult to sneak pass everything. But then again, he always loved a challenge. The carriage was dragged along a small road by the protecting wall that led to the private stables, before it came to a final stop. The guard travelling with him took a sharper grip on the chains attached to him and as soon as the door opened, Remy was literally pushed out and shoved towards a backdoor, which was only used by the guards, servants and stable boys, which explained the dark and narrow corridor. There were a few doors on either side; a few of them were opened and showed sleeping quarters that were just spacious enough to house a few beds. The next door they passed led to the kitchen, where the staff prepared the large festive meal that was to be had after the execution of the mutants. Once again, the odour from the food made Remy's stomach grumble, and yet again he forced it to be quiet. The guards pushed him to the side, where a long wooden staircase led up to each of the floors. This was the servants’ way of getting to their destination without disturbing the Royal family and their guests.

As they came to the fifteenth floor, one of the guards opened a hidden door to inspect the other side to see if the coast was clear. Seeing none of the Royals or the Nobles, the guards made their way out, closing the door behind them that quickly melted with its surroundings. It took one minute before they reached their destination. A guard knocked on the door but after getting no response after several tries, he opened it and went in. Remy looked around the room in awe. He had never in his wildest dream imagined a luxury like this. The walls were of mahogany with detailed decorations in gold, only interrupted by a closed glass door that led onto a balcony that overlooked the sea and the slowly setting sun. Several statues and paintings of finest quality covered the room. A large bed made from gold-covered oak and covered with red silk was placed opposite the balcony. There was a large Eastern carpet on the floor, along with a fur rug from a white tiger.

He was too occupied with taking it all in that he didn't notice he had been pushed onto the bed until one of the guards fastened one of the chains connecting to his iron collar to a hidden restrainer above the headboard. They left him as soon as their mission was done, taking the same way out as they had come.

Remy gritted his teeth in annoyance as he sat on his little corner of the bed. He had tried to stand up, but even though he could get his feet on the floor, the chain wasn't long enough to allow him to make his own choices to either stand or lay, but forced him to sit where he was. His arms were still tied behind his back and were thus to no help to try and pick the lock.


End file.
